


Taken or Gay

by Chichirinoda



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-01
Updated: 2010-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-14 07:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chichirinoda/pseuds/Chichirinoda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kisame decides to teach his new young charge, Itachi, the ways of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taken or Gay

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kink_bingo**](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/), for the prompt "Humiliation (situational)".

Itachi realized he had been staring up at the brothel in dismay for too long when Kisame's rough hand fell heavily onto his shoulder and he heard a rumble of laughter. "No need to be shy, Itachi-san," the man said. "This is the best brothel this side of the Fire country. I promise, we can get your cherry popped in here just from you taking a breath of the air inside."

Considering the subject matter, and the fact that Itachi was - so far as he knew - less than half of Kisame's age, the shark-man's manner towards him was strangely formal. But then, Kisame always spoke like that. Itachi suspected that it was that politeness - coupled with his own manners which had been quite thoroughly inculcated into him by his father - which sealed his lips together, protest unspoken, as Kisame steered him through the door and into the lobby of the building.

That, and the fact that he simply had little energy to protest anything at the moment.

It had only been a few weeks since he was handed over to Kisame and made his partner. The red and black cloak still hung awkwardly on his shoulders and the ring on his hand glittered without a speck of tarnish. He remembered little of that first week, except for Kisame's quiet attempts to speak to him, and his own disinterest in giving any kind of response.

After that first week, though, his desire to hold himself aloof from the criminals had finally given way to an unexpected feeling of guilt at Kisame's strange kindness. He had begun to speak, to come out of the shell that grief and pain and trauma had driven him into.

That had apparently been a mistake, since Kisame had apparently concluded that his tactics were working, and that it was time to take it to the next level.

Before he could get his mouth working again, a middle-aged woman wearing powder on her face and her hair bound up in an elaborate style shuffled out to greet them. Her eyes flicked nervously over Kisame and then down at the boy in his early teens with the red eyes, and she bowed deeply.

"Kisame-sama has brought a friend today, I see?" she said with a smile. "Would you like your usual?"

Itachi shot a glance up at the older man, shocked that he came here often enough to have a 'usual'. Kisame squeezed his shoulder even as he responded to the hostess, as if warning him not to speak. "I would, yes. And is Mika available? I think she'll do well for my friend here."

"Of course, Kisame-sama," the woman said, bowing again as she drew back.

They were led through the house to a private room, where four women waited with sake and music to entertain them. One of them was obviously young, or perhaps maintained the look of underage youth with the help of makeup and bearing, as her breasts were full and firm as she pushed them up against his arm.

Horrified and stunned that they apparently were expected to do this in plain view of the others, Itachi reluctantly allowed himself to be drawn down onto the couch next to Kisame and plied with sake.

And the nightmare began.

While Kisame drank and the women flattered him, obviously knowing him well enough - or well-paid enough - not to be put off by his dangerous appearance or the enormous sword that was always kept close to hand, Itachi sat and attempted to fend off the girl at his side.

It wasn't that she wasn't pretty. He could see enough of her breasts to know they were round and full and likely flawless. Her shape, what little of it he could discern through the brightly-coloured silk wrapping, was pleasingly slender and shapely. And it wasn't that he had anything against whores - he'd never really thought much about them at all, in fact, but he knew they served an important purpose.

But despite all that, he simply hunched his shoulders and refused the sake, and tried to keep her off of him without becoming too harsh.

It didn't take long for Kisame to notice something was wrong. The bigger man shoved a cup of sake under Itachi's nose. "Loosen up, kid," he said. "She's not going to bite. What are you afraid of?"

Itachi pushed the hand away irritably, inching away from Kisame along the length of the couch. "I'm not afraid," he said coldly.

"Shy, then," Kisame said with a chuckle that rumbled through his throat. He waved vaguely, seeming to take in all of Itachi with one sweep of his hand. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Itachi-san."

Itachi could feel his cheeks warming and wished he could sink through the floor. "Please, don't let me ruin your enjoyment, Kisame-san," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm happy to sit here quietly until you're finished. We're supposed to stay together, after all."

"Are you blushing?" Kisame replied, to Itachi's further mortification.

A calloused finger touched Itachi on the cheek, making him start in surprise. He jerked his head upwards, looking up at Kisame as the older man traced the finger down his cheek with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Please, Kisame-san," he said, his voice a little breathless now. "Pay no attention to me. Enjoy all of them, if you wish. I don't care."

All he wanted was for this humiliating experience to be over. He knew what was wrong, but he saw no reason to explore it further for Kisame's benefit.

Kisame's arm slipped around behind his shoulders, and Itachi nearly leaped off of the couch completely. He tensed until his muscles vibrated, hating to have the near-stranger, a stranger he knew to be a murderer and a criminal, so intimately close. Kisame placed his lips so close to Itachi's ear that he could feel his breath, and he struggled in vain to repress a shiver.

"Trust me, Itachi-san. You'll feel a lot better afterwards. There's really nothing to be afraid of. I lost mine in this exact place. Even if you're terrible in bed, the girls know how to teach you, and they'll never laugh."

"I'm not terrible in bed!" Itachi snapped hotly, his cheeks blazing with a mixture of infuriation and embarrassment. And the girls promptly made Kisame a liar, by tittering behind their fans at the outburst.

Kisame blinked and sat up. "Wait, you've been with a woman before?"

"...No," Itachi said through clenched teeth.

There was a moment of silence, then Kisame made a gesture with one hand. The four women bowed and withdrew from the room, and Itachi hunched a little lower in his seat. He had never been ashamed of his own proclivities, except for one time when his father had found out about Shisui and lectured him for several hours about his duties to his clan to procreate and that if he wanted to deal with his urges that way it was fine so long as he still produced sons.

He figured that issue was irrelevant now, but he still felt that same sinking feeling as Kisame gazed at him. This time, though, he waited for the shark man to laugh, and wondered why the older man had the power to make him care what he thought.

But no laugh came. Kisame's lips twisted up in a wry smile, and he leaned forward again, his arm slipping further around Itachi's shoulders once more. "Well well, I suppose what they say is true, isn't it Itachi-san?"

Itachi leaned back away, but was stopped by the arm of the couch. He considered punching Kisame in the face and making his escape, but he wasn't getting a dangerous vibe from him. Though the truth was, the main thing that stopped him was the blood flowing rapidly southward. He was pretty sure that running would be uncomfortable at the moment.

"What's that, Kisame-san?" he asked uncertainly, raising a hand and pressing it to the middle of Kisame's chest, as if it would ward him off.

"That the best men are either taken...or gay," Kisame said, and the best description for his tone that Itachi could come up with was a purr, though he was pretty sure that sharks didn't make a sound like that.

Then Kisame's lips covered his and he found himself kissing the older man with no memory of having made a decision to do so.

He let it go on for a few heart-pounding seconds, then began to struggle. Kisame was ready for him, and grabbed both of his wrists before he could go for kunai. They fought a pitched battle for a moment, teeth clacking together as Itachi tried to get a leg up or wrench his wrists free, but Kisame was physically stronger than him and had an inherent advantage at such close quarters. Amidst that brief struggle, Itachi slipped off of the couch and landed hard on his back on the floor, with Kisame straddling his hips and his wrists pinned to the tatami under him.

He realized that his eyes were closed and opened them, Sharingan swirling to pinwheel shapes, but Kisame lifted up and hooked his leg around him in a deft and probably practiced gesture. In an instant, Itachi found himself face down on the floor, his arms twisted behind his back and pinned by a single massive hand wrapped about both wrists, the other hand pressing into his neck to keep his head down.

"Ah... sorry, but I don't want to hurt you, Itachi-san," Kisame murmured. "And I really don't want you to use those incredible eyes on me."

"Let me go, Kisame," Itachi growled into the tatami. He went limp despite his words, conserving his strength and waiting for an opportunity to turn the tables. Inwardly, he cursed himself. How could he have let Kisame get so close? He had forgotten, for a crucial few moments, that the man was a criminal, a murderer, and not to be trusted.

"You are feisty," Kisame said with a soft laugh. "But I'm not letting you go when you're so mad at me. You might hurt me. Besides..."

The hand at the back of Itachi's neck moved. First he grabbed Itachi's scarred hitai-ate and tugged it down. Itachi jerked his head, trying to stop him, but the fabric slid over his eyes and he was effectively blindfolded. Kisame's hand moved downwards, sliding down his side and drawing his hips up with a quick tug to Itachi's waistband. Then he felt the hand cup his groin, and Itachi hissed in shock and anger.

"...I'm not sure you're really not enjoying the hell out of this, Itachi-san."

"Don't flatter yourself," Itachi replied caustically, hearing the tremor in his voice and trying to convince himself that it was all anger. He wasn't afraid. Nothing that Kisame could do to him was worse than anything he'd experienced before. There was no need to be afraid.

Kisame only rumbled a strangely gentle-sounding laugh and continued to rub his palm against Itachi's groin, stroking through the thin fabric of his shorts.

Itachi squeezed his eyes shut tightly and struggled against his own body. With his eyes blindfolded, it was hard not to focus on the physical sensations - the ache in his shoulders as Kisame pinned his arms, the weight of the bigger man on his lower legs, trapping him, the warm liquid pleasure that spread through his lower body as Kisame massaged his cock.

"Kisame...stop this," he tried one more time, but the words sounded too much like a plea for his comfort.

"It's all right," Kisame murmured. Why did he sound so gentle? So kind when he was violating Itachi's body against his will? "Itachi-san, just relax. I won't hurt you."

Calloused fingers tugged Itachi's shorts down, baring his ass, and he wondered if the girls were still watching, wondered if they were laughing behind their fans at him as he was raped. His cheeks burned with humiliation, but his cock flushed even harder.

Slowly, his breathing began to quicken, and he shifted his hips, jerking them forward a little as soft, needy gasps escaped his lips. He couldn't repress them, couldn't keep silent though he struggled with all of his might to remain aloof.

"Yes... yes there we go," Kisame murmured. "Let go, kid. Stop trying to be so damned strong."

"I...I have to...stay strong," Itachi panted.

"Not right now."

Moments later he gave a soft cry as climax hit. Fluid spattered the tatami beneath him, and he writhed in Kisame's grasp, spasming as waves of pleasure crashed over him. He felt himself being hauled upwards, and Kisame wrapped both arms around him, holding him against his chest.

Tears pricked his eyes, soaking into the fabric of his hitai-ate. It wasn't that the orgasm was so intense - it was good, but he'd had better. But still tears flowed, painful, poisonous tears, and the shudders of pleasure slowly turned to shudders of repressed sobs.

Kisame said nothing, a silent, warm presence as Itachi purged a bit more of the venom inside him.

Only when the shudders finally ceased did Itachi realize that he was seated sideways in Kisame's lap, fully clothed once more, with his head tucked under the other man's chin, and his hands were free. He reached up and pulled the hitai-ate off, turning it over in his fingers.

"Feel better?" Kisame rumbled softly.

Itachi blinked away the last tears, brought forth more by the sudden light stabbing into his eyes than by grief. He glanced around furtively, but despite his fears they appeared to be alone.

"I suppose so," he said lamely, having to acknowledge that he _did_ feel better. He felt wrung out like a sponge, but some tiny part of his pain had been purged, even if it had been a singularly embarrassing way to do it.

"Good."

Itachi lifted his head, meeting Kisame's gaze, and he was pleased to see the older man hesitate before looking into his eyes. "Do that again, Kisame-san, and you'll never sleep again for fear of my knife finding you," he said solemnly.

Kisame grinned, and there was neither malice, nor mockery in that smile. "Of course, Itachi-san."


End file.
